


Something Old

by Mystradigans



Series: Home is a person, not a place [3]
Category: The Bold Type
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Family Dynamics, Islam, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 20:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystradigans/pseuds/Mystradigans
Summary: Adena and Kat's wedding is one of new traditions and a tale as old as time





	Something Old

**Author's Note:**

> The imam I mentioned is real and awesome, go check her out!  
> \- Emily

xX Something Blue Xx

 

The headscarf was more than a fashion accessory for Adena. In a way, it was more even than a symbol of religious devotion- many Muslim women she knew chose not to cover their hair and it didn’t make them any less devout. And, at least since she moved away from home, it had never been a symbol of modesty or oppression. She chose to wear a headscarf as part of her identity; an outward display to the world that she was a proud Muslim and an expression of solidarity to all Muslim women across the world.

 

The headscarf was more than a fashion accessory for Adena, _and yet._ She held the exquisite square of royal blue silk in her hands, running her fingers over the barely-visible silver stitching with the level of reverence Sutton would give to a new Prada clutch. Her wedding hijab. It was the last thing to put on, she’d taken time slipping into her white gown and carefully applying make-up, and once the hijab was on, she’d be ready to marry the love of her life.

 

Her, married. The idea still seemed too good to be true. Growing up in Iran, she’d been taught from a young age that her parents would pick out a good husband for her and, if she liked him, she’d accept his proposal and live happily ever after. That had never really appealed to Adena as a child- marriage seemed dull for a woman from what she saw around her and she doubted that her parents would have the same idea of a suitable husband as her. Then, when she reached her teenage years and had her first real crush on a girl from her mosque called Olya, she’d been convinced that she could never be with someone she really loved in the first place, let alone marry them. The thought of marriage was so far out of her head that even when same-sex marriage was legalised in France shortly after she moved there, it had not crossed her mind as a possibility.

 

That was, until she met Kat. Kat with her shining eyes and crooked smile; with her mane of sweet-smelling curly hair and passion and delight for the smallest things. Kat who had travelled to Iran with her when her grandmother had passed away, who had stood by her side when she argued with her family and declared that Kat would one day be her wife. Kat, who had made her the happiest woman alive when she’d got down on one knee and proposed in the kitchen of their tiny flat.

 

They’d chosen to have a small wedding. Sutton and Jane were bridesmaids, and the only other friends invited were their plus-ones, Richard and Ben, as well as Jacqueline, her husband Ian, and Alex. Kat’s parents were coming of course, and Adena had sent invitations to her parents and brother- though the lack of any response told her that it was highly unlikely they would show. The only family member Adena really wanted to be there was her Madar Bozorg, but she trusted that her grandmother’s spirit would be there to watch over her.

 

Three-fifteen. It was almost time to make her way downstairs to wait for Sutton and Richard to drive her to the ceremony. Adena took a deep breath, said a prayer that her Madar Bozorg had taught her, and placed the scarf over her head.

 

xX Something Borrowed Xx

 

Richard’s car was waiting outside the flat when Adena came down. Kat was at her parents’ place, but Adena had wanted time to prepare alone in order to pray and reflect. She climbed carefully into the passenger seat to the sound of Sutton singing in a comically deep voice from the back.

 

“Here comes the bride… all dressed in white”

 

“Apart from her hijab” Adena joined in with a grin.

 

Richard chuckled. “Is that your something blue?”

 

“My something blue?” asked Adena, confused.

 

“It’s an American wedding thing” explained Sutton. “The bride is supposed to have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. Some weird old tradition I guess”

 

“Like the Sofreh-ye Aghd?” Adena guessed. “In Iran there’s this traditional spread of stuff your supposed to have at the table on a wedding. A cloth, a mirror, candles, the Qur’an…” she trailed off, remembering the weddings she’d attended sourly as a child, never dreaming that she could have her own. “Yes” she said decisively. “My hijab is my something blue”

 

“Would you like a something borrowed?” asked Sutton. She fiddled with the clasp of her necklace and passed it over to Adena. It was beautiful; a simplistic white gold chain with an elegant sapphire amulet at the bottom. “It’s a _Cartier_ ” Sutton gushed. “Oliver lent it to me. We need it for a shoot next week so take care of it, but it’ll look so perfect on you.”

 

“Thank you” Adena stammered, willing her eyes not to well up. She didn’t want to ruin her make-up.

 

“We’re here” warned Richard, pulling up outside the small hotel where both ceremony and reception would take place.

 

The three of them climbed out and headed into the building.

 

“Adena” came a voice from the doorway. “Oh, _Adena!”_

Adena turned sharply, recognising the voice. There, looking uncomfortable but nonetheless _there_ , were her mother and brother.

 

“Madar… Afshin…” she said, dumbfounded. “You _came_ ”

 

Her mother smiled tightly. “I… can’t say that I agree with all of your choices- “

 

“- Choices?” Sutton interrupted in outrage but was silenced by Adena grabbing her by the elbow.

 

“- But Afshin helped me to see that you are my daughter, and I should be at your wedding”

 

“I see” Adena said. She let that sit with her for a moment, trying to decide how she felt, and eventually cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming” she said, her voice tight.

 

Her mother and brother headed into the hall to take their seats, and Richard followed. As soon as they were out of sight, Adena buried her face in Sutton’s shoulder and sobbed silently, make up be damned, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions her family’s arrival had brought.

 

Sutton rubbed her back and passed her a hanky to dry her eyes. “It’s ok, everyone cries before their wedding” she assured Adena. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Happy that my Madar is here” began Adena, after a moment. “Devastated that she may never fully accept me. Angry at her for showing up out of the blue and expecting it all to be ok. Proud of her for taking a massive step forward. But mostly, so very lucky that I have Kat, who accepts me no matter what”

 

Sutton gave her a little squeeze. “You look incredible. Let’s go get you married to the love of your life, huh?”

 

Adena smiled. “Yeah. Thank you, Sutton. For the necklace as well. I know you’re Kat’s friend before mine _really_ , but I really appreciate you coming with me today”

 

“Am I your something borrowed, then?” teased Sutton.  “You’re awesome, ‘Dena, and I’d be here being your friend even if it wasn’t for Kat. I love you!”

 

“Love you too” said Adena. “Now… I think it’s nearly time to go in”

 

xX Something New Xx

 

Their wedding was going to be officiated by a female Imam, Jamila Ezzani, who’d modelled for Adena’s exhibition entitled _‘Islam in the Modern Age’_. She hugged Adena briefly before going into the hall and whispered in her ear- “Your bride is coming through. She looks _stunning!”_

Immediately, Adena’s head whipped round to face the door, and she was.

 

Kat was breath-taking. White, sleeveless dress with her hair loose around her shoulders and a smile tugging at the corners of her perfect lips. Jane was behind her, and when Adena took Kat’s hand and began the procession down the aisle, Jane and Sutton followed.

 

“Hey” she whispered.

 

“Hey” Kat echoed out of the corner of her mouth, trying not to laugh. “You sure about this”

 

“Fuck off Kat. Of course I’m sure” Adena shot back. She knew Kat was joking, in the lead up to this wedding she’d been getting more and more excited. She just couldn’t wait to be able to call the wonderful woman standing beside her her wife.

 

“ _He is eager for your happiness, full of concern for the faithful, compassionate and kind_ ” read Imam Jamila, the quote Adena had selected from the Qur’an. She glanced at her mother in the audience, aware that the concept of a female Imam was as alien to her as hovercars or stuffed-crust pizza, before putting that aside and turning to face her bride. _Allah is eager for your happiness._

The service itself was a blur. Adena heard it through a dreamlike distortion; as if she were underwater and the service on a ship above the sea. She was barely even conscious of saying ‘I do’, though alhamdulillah she managed to do so at the correct time. All she could see was Kat’s warm eyes and smooth skin; all she could think was that any moment now they would be truly together.

 

 _Something new,_ she thought, as Jamila chanted prayers over their clasped hands. Everything must seem new for her mother- female Imams and same-sex weddings and taking the first tentative step to rebuilding a relationship with her lesbian daughter. But the only new Adena truly cared about was the marriage she was stepping into any… moment… _now._

 

“You may now kiss the bride” Imam Jamila said, and the hall burst into applause as Adena’s new wife pulled her into a kiss.

 

xX Something Old Xx

 

_“Go to the ends of this Earth for you to make you feel my love.”_

 

Adena sipped her mocktail and watched her wife _(!)_ dancing to Adele with her father, both laughing at their own clumsiness. She felt Sutton’s hand squeeze her shoulder and smiled gratefully at her. Adena’s mother and brother were talking in a corner, and she hadn’t the guts to go over to them. As she glanced back over at them, however, she noticed that her mother had left Afshin and was crossing the room towards her. Sutton had evidently noticed too: putting down her drink, she took Richard’s hand and led him to the dancefloor. Adena was left alone with her mother, who was carrying a small wooden box.

 

“Congratulations” her mother said softly.

 

“Thank you” was Adena’s cautious reply.

 

“I… I was speaking to your Imam earlier on. She had some interesting ideas about the Qur’an and… and homosexuality”

 

Adena could only nod, still unsure of where she was going.

 

“I don’t know, Adena. I have to think about all this. But I believe that Allah forgives”

 

This was a start. Adena nodded again.

 

“And your Madar Bozorg-“ Adena bit her lip hard when her mother mentioned her late grandmother. “-she always said that we were being ridiculous, and that we had a duty to love you as a member of our family. And… well… I think she’d have wanted you to have this.”

 

She pressed the box into Adena’s hands and waited as Adena opened it carefully. It was Madar Bozorg’s teapot. The design, a portrait of an old Iranian king, was a popular one but there was no denying that this was the very same that had been such a centre in Adena’s family life for so long. How many times had she giggled at that extravagant moustache and stern eyebrows as a child, holding sugar between her teeth to sweeten the tea as she drank it? Morning, noon and night Madar Bozorg’s teapot was always steaming away, inviting anyone who needed a break from the anxieties of life to sit down with the wizened old lady for some tea and sympathy. She ran her fingers over the familiar design and smiled through tears up at her mother.

 

New was amazing and exciting, but there was certainly still something wonderful about _old._


End file.
